


What You’ve Been Missing

by Eternallost



Series: Pines One Shots [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Age Difference, Cigarettes, F/M, Future, Mystery Shack, Past, Psychic Abilities, Reader-Insert, Stanuary 2020, Tumblr Prompt, burn - Freeform, secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22287559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternallost/pseuds/Eternallost
Summary: Stan attempts to show you what you’ve been missing by not participating in the speed dating at the diner
Relationships: Stan Pines & Reader, Stan Pines/Reader
Series: Pines One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095641
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64
Collections: Stanuary





	What You’ve Been Missing

“Do you have any siblings?” an eager brunette asked.

“No,” Stan answered gruffly. “I’m the only one. Live by myself."

She blinked, as if asking for more.

"Little shack in the woods... I, erm, inherited it."

“Oh,” the girl squinted, obviously put-off. Dame must have wanted a mansion in town.

“Not to say that I’m a loner. I would welcome more,” Stan struggled to recover his stamina as he waggled an eyebrow, “much more.”

The girl-in-question curled her lip in a fake smile.

As the bell rang to change tables, Stan walked out the double doors. Maybe he just wasn't meant for love. He struck a match, igniting his cigarette as he stared into the dark woods. He should have known that speed dating in Gravity Falls while masquerading as his brother wouldn’t turn out well.

_When had it ever, when he lied?_

“New around here, aren’t you?” A shadowy figure questioned behind him.

“What’s it to you?” Stan puffed out smoke, further obscuring your silhouette.

“Nothing, really. I’ve been here for a while. Just bored is all. Know when to spot a man with a secret.”

“Hey!” Stan leaned forward, gesturing with his cigarette. “I ain’t got no secrets, all right?”

“Sure, old man,” you smiled. “Neither have I.”

His eyes paced between yours. “Right... What did you say your name was?”

You snorted a laugh. “I didn’t.”

“And I suppose you won’t?”

“Not if you don’t earn it.”

“Typical.” Stan turned to face the night for a moment. Or two. “What would it take to earn it, anyways?”

“Oh, just your first born.”

Stan turned to face you; eyes wide. He’d seen too much in these woods already.

“Kidding, Stan. Kidding.”

He choked on his smoke. “You know my name?” 

“Says so right here,” you lightly tapped the name tag peeling from his sweater. It served more to highlight his arms than to cover them.

“Right,” he nodded to assure himself. “And where’s yours?”

“I’m not here to date,” you looked up to the waxing moon from behind the drifting clouds and tall redwood trees. “I’m the wait staff.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Service jobs suck.”

“Excuse me?” You puffed out your chest.

“I only say so because I know so,” he took a drag of his cigarette. “I was a salesman." He gave you a look over. "For much longer than you’ve been alive, I’m sure.”

You gave him a smirk. “And how’d that go?”

“Ain’t going door to door no more.”

“And… Is that because you're forbidden by law?”

“ _ **No!**_ ” Stan squarely faced you for a moment. His eyes drifted away. “…Yes.”

“Don’t worry, Stan,” you placed your hand on his well-built bicep. “Every salesman gets there someday. If they’re any good.”

He gave a heavy sigh. “Tell you the truth, I was never any good.”

“Hey!” You pipped up, “People bought it, didn’t they?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

“They still do,” you leaned forward, “don’t they?”

He leaned back, suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“They still come to that Mystery Shack, right? Hoping to learn the meaning of life, or something.”

He gave a rumbling laugh. “You’ve never been. Have you?”

“Nah.” You shook your head. “Haven’t had the time.”

“You got the time now?” He leaned forward, the smell of smoke still lingering.

You glanced back. “I mean, I guess my shift is up. But, it’s late. It’s dark.”

“Are you scared?” He gave a toothy grin. “Some wolf going to eat you on the way to granny’s?”

“Not scared,” you smiled right back, showing teeth. “Not of you.”

“Fair enough,” he offered his elbow for your hand. “Come on, I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”

You looked him up and down. “Not too much, I hope?”

“See for yerself,” he spoke as he took your arm in his.

When he opened the door to his classic car, you knew it was going to be an interesting night.

* * *

There were no lights on at his home. No street lights on the ride there. The only drifting light was of the waxing moon.

You swallowed as you stepped out into the brisk air, the sound of the car door slamming behind you.

“Home, sweet home,” he crooned with a bitterness you could taste.

“Something happened here,” you spoke as you faced the ominous frame in the moonlight.

“Something’s about to happen here,” he gave you two, sly pointer fingers, as if that would fix the feeling in your gut.

“Stan,” you didn’t know whether to correct or encourage, so you took his hand as he led you into the dark halls. “Don’t you have any lights around here?”

“I got one,” he struck another match as he lit another cigarette, the dim orange light showing you the way. He had to get that voice somehow.

“That can’t be good for you,” you chided.

“One can only hope,” he responded as his kisses led you to the strewn covers of his queen bed. He lit a lantern on the night stand with the butt of his cigarette.

“Is this what you had to show me?” You raised an eyebrow, “because this seems like an awful lot of things that I’ve seen before.”

“Does it, now? Because I can assure you," he waved his fingers, "it holds many secrets.”

“Are we talking about the house,” you sighed, “or you, Stanley?”

He flinched at his given name, stumbling onto his bed.

“That’s right.” You sat, “I knew Ford. He came to the diner. Talked about you often. His twin. _Sweet guy,_ but he was a regular poindexter. Which you, sir, are not.”

“You want to out me, doll face?” His hand was swiftly at your chin and cheeks, forming your lips into a pout. “I’ve built a life for myself here. I ain’t got _nothing._ **NO ONE**. Waiting for me on the outside.”

You swatted him away. “I don’t want to **out** you, Stan.” You took a breath through your nose. “I just want to know what happened.”

He released you as he stepped back once more. “Thought you could have been special,” he sounded dejected.

“Just because I care what happened to your brother doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you, Stanley.” You felt for his broad shoulder in the dark. It shuddered under your touch. “Tell me.”

“He’s gone.” The gravel of his voice filled the room.

“No,” you closed your eyes.

 _“…What?”_ you could barely hear him.

“I have my secrets too, Stan.” You spoke, “And I can still feel him, anchored to this house. In the basement.”

“That’s,” he inhaled, “that’s where I last saw him.”

“And you’ll see him again,” you opened your eyes.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” you smiled. “You’ll be grayer than you are now,” you ruffled his full hair, “and have two brats in tow, but you’ll see him again.”

“Two brats, huh?” He grinned.

You laughed. “Not mine.”

His face suddenly became curious.

“Not yours either.”

Then he looked downright confused.

“Try not to think too hard about it.” Your lips met his. “The answers will come in time.”


End file.
